


Vaster Than My Smiles

by PunsBulletsAndPointyThings



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, GFY, Happy Ending, M/M, Pre A New Hope, Tatooine, Warning for brief mention of suicidal thoughts, ghost kisses, post RotS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-29 17:39:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5136725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunsBulletsAndPointyThings/pseuds/PunsBulletsAndPointyThings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He tries, and tries, and tries, out there is the endless desert. And just as before, he fails, and he breaks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vaster Than My Smiles

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from a line from Neil Gaiman's utterly gorgeous poem Dark Sonnet, which among many reasons, I love because it makes me think of this ship. I highly recommend going and reading it if you haven't already.

Frustration bubbled in Obi-Wan’s chest as his eyes snapped open, taking in the barren landscape around him. Sand, sand as far as the eye could see and yet again he was alone. The frustration built, and Obi-wan bit back the urge to curse, clenching his fists tight enough that his nails bit into the flesh of his palms. Uncrossing his legs, Obi-wan lay back against the outcrop of wind-beaten rock he was sitting on, closing his eyes against the harsh glare of Tatooine’s double suns. Around him, the desert wind howled mournfully. Once again, he had been unsuccessful in reaching out to his master. No matter what he did, no matter how often he tried, Obi-wan had yet to see a single sign that Qui-Gon Jinn’s consciousness still lingered. He had wondered, after the first week of failed attempts, if Yoda had been mistaken, but had quickly dispelled that thought. Yoda would not have told him if he had not been certain. Not about this. Never about this.  
  
_‘I want to sleep.’_ Scrubbing his hands over his eyes, Obi-wan let the thought dance around his mind. He was so tired. The past month had been long and hard, filled with the daily struggles that came with establishing a life for himself of the harsh planet. But it was necessary; someone had to watch over Luke, and guide him when the time was right.  
  
_‘And where better to hide?’_ A tiny, treacherous voice in the back of his mind whispered. Obi-Wan tugged the hood of his cloak over his eyes, holding his breath until his lungs began to protest, before letting it out in a slow stream. _‘It is not like that.’_  
  
_‘Of course’_  
  
He wished that Yoda were there, or Mace, or Garen. But two Jedi on one small planet would have been too much of a risk to take, and Yoda had returned to what had once been the planet of his people. Obi-Wan refused to let his mind continue on down that path. The remains of the pair bond he had shared with Garen were still raw in his mind and Mace…  
  
Mace’s death brought nothing but additional pain.  
  
He shuddered, suddenly cold, even as he lay on the sun-baked rock. His breath caught in his throat as he tried to inhale, tried to release the sudden wave of emotions filling his chest out into the Force. His next breath shook, and suddenly the galaxy it’s self was pressing down on him, smothering him.  
  
_‘I can’t do this.’_  
  
The realization hit him like a punch to gut, temporarily robbing him of the ability to breathe or think. Over and over again, he had done nothing but fail. He had failed his master, failed his padawan, his grand-padawan. He had failed the Jedi Order, had failed to see the darkness that had taken root in Anakin. And now he had failed again, failed this last lesson of Master Yoda. How could he do this?! He was alone, and powerless to do any more than wait.  
  
_‘I wish Cody had just shot me and been done with it.’_  
  
Something that might have been laughter, once upon a time, left Obi-Wan’s lips, and he brought his arms up to cover his face. “Why?! Why me?! What did I do to deserve this?!”  
  
His voice sounded pitiful, even to his own ears.  
  
Anakin, eyes burning like sulfur, nothing but rage and hate in their depths. Anakin, a small, over-excited child; blue eyes shining out from under his mop of blonde hair; curious and asking so many questions it made Obi-Wan’s head spin. Dead. That child was dead and gone, replaced by a monster wearing his brother as a shell and it was Obi-Wan’s fault. He had failed, failed so completely, and now there was nothing left. He let out a sob, hands flying to clamp over his lips. Another sob followed on its heels, and tears Obi-Wan had not realized he had been holding back slid down his face. It was too much, too hard to hold it all together. He curled in on himself and sobbed.  
  
He couldn’t do it.  
He was alone.  
He had failed.  
Everything he had known, everyone he had loved, was gone.  
He―  
  
A hand, too cool and barely there, brushed his skin, moving up to stroke his hair. Obi-Wan froze, body tensing and a million thoughts flew through his head all at once.  
  
“Padawan.”  
  
Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes closed, shaking his head. Now he was going mad.  
  
“Master.” It came out as a sob that shook his body. Cool arms wrapped around him and he found himself being pulled into an embrace that felt like home. Obi-Wan continued to sob like a heart-broken child into his hands, refusing to look, because if he looked, he would be alone again because this was impossible. He had failed, had been unable to follow Yoda’s instructions, failed to reach Qui-Gon, failed―  
  
The fingers were still in his hair. “I am so sorry, my Obi-Wan.”  
  
A hand cupped his face, sliding under his chin in a way that was so familiar is ached. Obi-wan shook his head.  
  
“Please say I’m not going mad.”  
  
“I promise, you are perfectly sane.”  
  
He buried his fists in the fabric of his cloak. “I’m so sorry, Master, I failed you.”  
  
“You never failed me Obi-Wan. Never.”  
  
The fingers on Obi-Wan’s face were soft, and he leaned into them, drinking in the touches that were only half there.  
  
“Open your eyes, Padawan.” The voice was soft, but firm. “Look at me.”  
  
He complied, slowly, still half afraid that he would find himself alone again when he did. He blinked away tears and sand, and locked eyes with the translucent form of his master.  
  
Qui-Gon smiled, and any composure that Obi-wan thought he had regained dissipated.  
  
                                                                                                                    ~  
     
When he woke up, he was in his bed. Light filtered in, and Obi-Wan watched sleepily as it bounced off dust and sand floating in the air, trying to remember when he had gone to bed. The last thing he remember was going out to the rock to meditate and…  
  
He shot up in bed, filled with sudden panic. All but throwing himself out of bed, Obi-Wan bolted out of the tiny bedroom and skidded to a stop not ten seconds later.  
  
Qui-Gon was sitting at his table. Well, not sitting, more hovering just over the seat of one of the two rickety chairs Obi-Wan had acquired. His eyes were closed, and Obi-Wan wondered briefly if Force ghosts could meditate.  
  
“You’re real.”  
Qui-Gon opened his eyes, and smiled at him. “I am.”  
  
“I thought…I was scared I had imagined you.”  
  
Obi-Wan sat down in the opposite chair. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Finally, Obi-Wan looked up from studying his hands.  
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
Qui-Gon frowned. “Obi-Wan, I told you, you did not fa―”  
  
Obi-Wan cut him off, shaking his head. “I should have been better. I should have fought with you. If you had trained him, maybe this would not have happened.” He rested his chin in his hands. “I…I was not a very good master at first. I should have been there for Anakin, but I…”  
  
“I know.”  
  
Obi-Wan looked up. “You do?”  
  
Qui-Gon nodded. “I saw. I tried to speak to you, but you could never hear me.”  
  
“But then,” Obi-Wan stared at him, eyes widening, “All those times Anakin said…” A look of defeat crossed his features. “I have failed you again then.”  
  
“No!” The look in Qui-Gon’s eyes was fierce, and he moved to stand beside Obi-Wan. “You have never failed me. I have always been with you Obi-Wan, and in all that time, you never did anything but make me proud. The promise I made you give, it was unfair to you. You were still so young. And my actions on Naboo, my treatment of you, I realize now just how cruel I was to you.”  
  
Obi-Wan stared in shock, as Qui-Gon knelt down next to his chair. “Can you forgive me, Master Kenobi?”  
  
Obi-Wan swallowed. Hearing Qui-Gon call him by his rank, his old rank, felt odd. “Master…I…” He nodded rapidly. “Yes."  
  
Slipping off his chair, he knelt as well, putting himself at eye level with the ghost. “You look younger, less…burdened.” He murmured.  
  
Qui-Gon met his eyes. “I fear that has fallen to you, my padawan.” He reached out, tracing a translucent thumb gently across the lines under Obi-Wan’s left eye.  
  
Obi-Wan gave a small huff of laughter, leaning into the touch. “I look old before my time, you mean. I know, you need not mince your words.”  
  
Qui-Gon arched an eyebrow. “I did not say that, Obi-wan. You are very beautiful.” His voice was soft, and his thumb lingered on Obi-Wan’s cheek.  
  
It was Obi-Wan who closed the distance. Kissing Qui-Gon was…strange. Not at all like anyone he had kissed before, but then he supposed that was to be expected, considering. It was odd, the feel of Qui-Gon’s lips, not quite a solid presence against his own, was cool, like wind or water, but pleasant nevertheless. Obi-Wan let himself sink into the touch, feeling in it comfortable, and safe, and loved.  
  
At last, he opened his eyes. Qui-Gon was smiling at him.  
  
“I love you.”  
  
“As I have always loved you.”  
  
“Since when?”  
  
“I started noticing around your twentieth birthday.”  
  
Obi-Wan smiled. “Why did you not say something?”  
  
“I am over thirty years your senior, Obi-Wan.”  
  
“Not anymore.”  
  
“I am also dead.”  
  
“A temporary issue.”  
  
At Obi-Wan’s words, Qui-Won went still, a look of concern crossing his face, and Obi-Wan’s eyes widened as he scrambled to explain.  
  
“No! I did not mean like…”  
  
Qui-Gon nodded. “I understand. I…I was worried though. After yesterday…”  
  
He trailed off, his words hanging heavy in the air.  
  
“I was 16.”  
  
Qui-Gon frowned, looking over at Obi-Wan, who was smiling slightly. “I don’t understand.”  
  
Obi-Wan’s smile widened. “I realized I was in love with you when I was 16. I have waited this long to be with you Qui-Gon Jinn. I can bloody well wait until the Force decides my time is up.”  
  
He lent in, brushing another almost kiss across Qui-Gon lips.  
  
“You are with me. I can survive anything.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, I know from personal experience just how hard it can be to function when utterly sleep deprived, and my biggest worries at the time was a ten point Latin quiz and an overly noisy roommate. I can only imagine Obi-wan's state, at least in the early days on Tatooine, and thus, this was born.


End file.
